


The Mysterious Billa Baggins

by BeautyWithMelancholy



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Billa Baggins, Criminal Bilbo, Emotionally Constipated Thorin, F/M, Female Bilbo, Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, I'm too tired to put more tags right now, Jealous Thorin, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Thorin, Slow Build, Slow Burn, not early on but like later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:54:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7039540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautyWithMelancholy/pseuds/BeautyWithMelancholy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billa Baggins is quite honestly a complete conundrum in the eyes of the company. One minute she's so quiet that no one notices her, the next she's laughing and joking with the best of them. Then she's distant and irritated, before becoming polite again. And don't even get the dwarves started about the instant staticky hatred between their hobbit-burglar and their dear leader, Thorin Oakenshield.<br/>This mysterious hobbit is going to have her world knocked upside-down while all of her secrets will be stripped from her one by one, whether she wants it or not. That, the dwarves can guarantee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dwalin had arrived at the Shire first.

He could feel the burning stares and muttered whispers all around him as he walked down the paved paths that curved and twisted this way and that. Every whisper that the dwarf heard slowly brought his anger to a simmer, and after a few indiscreet points his way, a boiling roar.

If their burglar was anything like these fat and short…hobbits, then Dwalin was quite sure that he would beat the wizard that convinced Thorin to go on this quest, powers and retribution be damned.

Finally, after ten minutes of searching for the sign on the door that Gandalf had told Thorin about, Dwalin spots it. It was barely a scratch on the green, round door before the rather burly dwarf, and if not for the faint light that weakly broke through the scratch, he wouldn't have noticed it he was sure.

Dwalin knocked on the door a bit harder than he probably needed to, but he thought that he was entitled to exerting his frustrations somehow. He stood there a moment in the now silent night, as all those in this particular neighborhood seemed to have already settled down in their homes.

He heard shuffling in the house and a muffled ‘one moment please’ before the green door was opened, greeting him with kindly wide eyes that nearly exactly matched the door’s color. 

A short woman stood before the dwarf, which by itself surprised him, though he did not show it. The lass looked upon him not with contempt as her fellow hobbits had as he walked through their Shire, but instead she gazed at him with cool curiosity in the tilt of her head. The hobbit spoke as she tied her robe slightly tighter around her waist.

“Hello, sir.” The lass gave a polite little smile as she said this, her voice a pleasantly smooth tenor.

Dwalin replies with a stilted bow from the waist and a ‘Dwalin, at your service’. The hobbit responded with the nod of her head as she said, “Billa Baggins, at your’s.”

Billa’s eyes went a tad wide as she said quickly, “Oh, where are my manners? Please come in.” 

She opened her door wider for the dwarf to step into the hole in the hill she lived it. Or, at least he had thought that it would be a mere hole, with dirt compacted tightly into walls and ceilings and floors, with the smell of earth permeating the air strongly. Instead, he caught a whiff something sweet, along with -fish, if his memory serves him well, along with many other things that he cannot quite place. He walked on warm wooden floors and walls that made the hobbit hole more homely than he expected.

The hobbit closed the door behind them and spoke, holding out her hand. “I can take your coat, if you like. There’s also some dinner in the dining room across from the kitchen.” She smiles politely at him once more, as she hangs his green coat onto a rack. “I was told that there would be more than just one guest. I suppose the others shall be a tad late?”

Dwalin shrugged stiffly, as he quite honestly did not know both when his companions would arrive, and how exactly to act without offending the lass, as he did not touch up on the customs that hobbits held. He was fully prepared for a fussy little nuisance that he could easily intimidate and hate in equal measure, however that is not what he was met with. Already the lass was different than the rest of her kin, as she did not snub him nor did she stare at him with distrust. He had heard from merchant dwarves, such as his brother, that hobbits tended to be very prudish and holier-than-thou towards anyone that did not measure up to their expectations. 

As Dwalin walked to the dining room Billa had indicated, he nearly froze at its entryway. The table was laden with foods, so much so that with the addition of plates and cups there wasn’t really any table to see. The delectable and mouthwatering smell was much stronger now, and as he gazed at everything there he could spot some stuff he knew. Fish as he had smelt before, along with chicken and roast and potatoes, along with a plethora of eatables that he did not recognize, but would be more than happy to tear into.

He sat down in one of the chairs and started with the fist, not thinking about his manners in front of the lass until he was halfway through with his first dish. Usually he would not give a rat’s ass about table manners, but the hobbit had been hospitable towards him thus far, and he honestly did not wish to ruin a feast for his companions before they even showed up.

As Dwalin looked up to the doorway, however, Billa simply gave him a bemused smirk before turning to pull a pan out of her oven. “I just have one more tray of cookies to make and then everything will be done, master dwarf. I hope I’ve made enough for you and your fellows that will be showing up? Gandalf didn’t deem it noteworthy to tell me how much dwarves tend to eat, the troublesome wizard.”

Dwalin cleared his throat and replied gruffly. “Aye, it’ll do.”

“Good!” She called over her shoulder, just as there was another knock upon her door. The lass closes her oven with her foot and briskly walks out of Dwalin’s sight, supposedly to meet her next guest, as the dwarf helped himself to a chicken leg.

He heard some muffled chatter before heavy footsteps led to the room he was seated in. Looking, Dwalin stood and grinned at the dwarf before him. His beard had gotten longer and whiter since he last saw Balin two years ago, yet the merriment in his eyes had not left.

The two exchanged an enduring head-bump and laughed, before Dwalin led his older brother into the dining room.

Balin’s eyebrows went higher as he took in the feast before him, much like his younger sibling reacted. Dwalin shrugged and led him to the seat next to his, and as they caught up with one another time seemed to fly for the two.

Seemingly all at once, all but one of the dwarves had arrived. The company was laughing and rough-housing and tossing food at their fellows as the hobbit lass seemed to disappear into the background. If they had bothered to pay attention to her, they would have seen as she watched them with an absolutely blank expression, her eyes narrowed and calculating. The wizard was the only one who would catch a glimpse of her mask-less face, and he knew that the only reason he was able to accomplish that was because she allowed him to. 

It was the whole reason why he chose her for this journey. Gandalf hoped that he could kill two birds with one stone on this little adventure, through his meddlesome ways, of course.

The table was soon nearly cleared of its delectable content, including the cookies that Billa had presented not five minutes prier. Then, the whole smial was brought to silence as there was a definite, commanding knock at the door. Gandalf stood slowly and spoke in a very ominous voice. “He’s here.”

Billa’s face was once again that of the polite hostess. “Well, I should hope so! Any longer and he would not have had any supper!” She said in a teasing voice to the dwarves that had cleared out her food stock quite effectively.

The hobbit strode to the door and opened it, stepping aside with but a glance to the tall dwarf before her. “Hello. Billa Baggins, at your service. Come on in, you're rather late, sir.”

Thorin stepped by the short woman, very obviously ignoring her. Billa’s eyes narrowed dangerously at him, but quickly lost their edge before anyone could notice.

Thorin handed his sword to one of his nephews while giving his coat to the other as he spoke to Gandalf. “You said this place would be easy to find, wizard. I got lost; twice.”

Before Gandalf could retort, Billa closed the door to her home and stepped in front of blue-eyed dwarf who loomed over her.

“Yes well, the Shire is quite easy to navigate, and Bag End even more easily spotted. You must have as terrible sense of direction as you do manners, master dwarf.” The dwarves around the two stared at her in shock. She had been very quiet but polite towards them, enough so that they barely noticed her after introductions were given.

It seemed to be the first time any of the dwarves bothered to actually see the lass, Thorin included. She was indeed the shortest of them all yet with the biggest feet. Her hair was down and pushed to one shoulder, golden ringlets tumbling down to the curve of her breasts. Her silken robe cascaded the length of her body until it reached just below her knee, the light blue of it complimented her smooth skin.

Though her appearance was that of a gentle-hobbit, her stance before the leader of their company was rigid and strict, not in the least lenient towards him nor his manners as she was with the rest. Thorin glared rather viciously at the little las before him, and before he could snap a response Gandalf quickly stepped forward.

“Billa Baggins, this is Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of this company.”

Billa turned her razor sharp eyes to Gandalf before back to the dark haired dwarf before her. “Indeed.” The lass’s voice is quiet and rather empty all of a sudden. She continues staring at the dwarf for a moment, before turning her gaze to her audience. “Well then, perhaps we could begin what you came here for now, as the esteemed dwarf eats his supper, hm?” The dwarves could see the irritation still in her green eyes, and they grumbled affirmatives.

Stiffly, Thorin Oakenshield walked into the dinning room, where Bomber put together a plate for the somber dwarf. As he ate, his fellows pelted him with questions and he answered them. They asked about Dain and his involvement of their journey- or rather, his lack there of apparently. The group deflated at that, before Thorin roused them rather impressively into excitement once more by way of a small speech.

Billa finally sits between Kili and Ori, the latter of the two giving the hobbit a shy smile. She returned it politely, before turning her gaze to Gandalf and Thorin. “So, what do you need me for? It seems you have everything you need already.”

The company stared at her in surprise, having thought that she knew their purpose in coming to her home. Then all eyes turned to the wizard, seemingly simultaneous.

Billa watched this and continued, “Gandalf came to me yesterday and proposed an adventure to me. I was inclined not to accept, but he said that he was sure it would catch my interest and left it at that. All else he told me was that I would have thirteen guests tonight and that I should better prepare for them, if I wished to be a proper hostess.” She chuckled gently. “And a Baggins must always put up a proper front. Now here we are, and I am interested. So, how can I be of service to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield?”

Thorin cleared his throat in order to get the attention of those at the table. “We are in need of a burglar, mistress Baggins. I was against the idea of having not only a hobbit, but a woman participating in this endeavor, however Gandalf has assured me that we will fail without you.” He did not sound or look at all happy with this notion.

Billa gave a noncommittal hum. “I presume there is a contract I must sign?”

Balin quickly produced a rolled up piece of parchment that he then handed to the lass, who promptly unrolled it and read quickly.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at the group before her after a moment. “Incineration? Not liable for funeral expenses?” Without looking for a reply she finished reading, then left the room only to return with a small bottle of ink and a pen. She signed her signature in a quick, elegant scrawl, before handing the contract back to Balin, who smiled widely at her. 

“Well then, lass. Welcome to the company of Thorin Oakenshield. We’ll start the first leg of our journey in the morning”

And how very interesting of a journey it shall turn out to be.


	2. On to Bree

Balin was quite sure that miss Baggins was not a normal hobbit.

The dwarf advisor had met hobbits before, and had seen how they act with one another along with strangers from other species. They were polite to a fault, but there was always a note of distrust and sharpness that dwarves loathed, and Balin was no different. He was fully prepared to silently despise the company’s newest companion. 

So, imagine his surprise when he was welcomed into the smial by a smiling wee thing and faced with his brother who was always smothering his big hole of a mouth with the plethora of food that was on the table. Yes, Balin was surprised by this, but even more so later on as he realized something.

It was the next morning and the company was preparing to leave, yet the dwarves had seen head nor hide of their hobbit hostess. They were just about to go looking for the damn girl when she came down the lane, walking next to a much wider gentle-hobbit. The man was looking at the lass in distressed bewilderment, and for good reason, Balin supposed.

After all, it was not everyday one saw a hobbitess wearing dark leather riding trousers and a light green tunic that was perfectly altered to fit her curvaceous…figure. Her golden hair was tied into a tight braid that ended at her shoulder, the sun reflecting on the curled locks just well enough that there were highlights of fiery red interweaving with the gentle gold.

She would have been the epitome of what a hobbit shouldn't be, if her feet were covered with shoes. However, they were not, and that was most likely the only reason the poor male hobbit had not keeled over yet from shock, Balin supposed with amusement.

“M-miss Baggins! Surely you will reconsider this!”

“You will take care of the things I requested, mister Gamgee? I will be gone for quite sometime, if I even come back.” She spoke gently to her fellow hobbit as she caught the eye of a few from the company, giving them a brisk nod.

“Wh-what do you mean ‘if you come back’?” The man squeaked as he looked between the lass and the large group of dwarves -plus a wizard- in trepidation. “Are you in danger, miss Baggins?”

Balin heard his brother let out a quiet snort, and the older of the two was silently agreeing with the unspoken statement. Even if the lass was in danger from them, it wasn't like this hobbit could help her.

“Of course not, Hamfast!” Billa’s expression turns gentle and thankful. “These gentlemen are merely accompanying me, as I told you.”

Hamfast still seemed wary as he took a glance at the dwarves before them. “And you are sure you wish to keep such…rough company? Surely mister Gandalf could have found a gentler escort for you. You're such a wee lass, miss. Nothing like your spit fire of a mother, Yavanna rest her soul. And going for such a long time, simply to reply to a request from a former friend of miss Belladonna? Oh, I can’t even think of it!”

Balin raised an eyebrow at this story, yet miss Billa did not even bat an eyelash at the blatant lie. Instead she gave a weak, shaky sigh and a grievous shake of her head.

“I’m afraid I must, mister Gamgee. After all, it would be terribly improper to refuse the small request of a visit from a fading friend of my dear mother. The elf was left heartbroken from the death of her beloved, and only wishes to hear tales of him and my mother, as the three were wonderful friends. Rules of propriety dictate that I leave at once.” Her voice, which was so sharp and certain the night before as she spoke to Thorin was now a wavering mess, as though the lass was frightened terribly at the mere prospect of leaving. As most hobbits would be, in her position.

Hamfast looks down at her with something kin to awe inspired respect and adoration. He compliments her for her bravery and utter devotion to the duties that a daughter must keep for her late parents. “Mister Bungo would be proud, if not worried sick, of you. Be careful, and keep to mister Gandalf if you can.”

Billa Baggins smiles faintly at the other hobbit, putting her hand on his shoulder gently. “Thank you for your well-wishes. Please, follow those instructions to the letter, if you do not mind. Now, I fear I must go. I’ve caused too much delay already.”

Gamgee nodded quickly, and soon enough the company was on their way, and Balin was in equal amounts amused, intrigued, and suspicious. He was a dwarf, after all.

Thorin, however is the one that questions her first once they are well out of the Shire. His voice is annoyed and sharp as he regards her with narrowed eyes a sneer.

“What exactly was that, miss Baggins?”

Billa does not even look towards him as she pets the mane of her horse. She does, however, answer his question in a level voice. 

“That, master dwarf, was a cover story. Believe it or not, I am leaving behind quite a few duties that are highly important in the Shire. Also, it would be unthinkably improper to leave without a word besides ‘I’m going on an adventure!’, especially as I am a woman and with a large group of dwarves. Hobbits tend to be a bigotry bunch, and hate anything out of the ordinary.” 

Balin knew this well, as it was what he had expected from their former host in the first place.

Kili asked Billa curiously, “Surely there have been hobbits that have left home to go to far lands before.”

Before Billa could answer, Gandalf laughed heartily and spoke. “Yes, there was a hobbit couple that journeyed far and wide once. When the two got back, years later they even had gotten married and carried with them a small child, just twelve years old. They had been thought dead, and their families had mourned. Took quite a great deal of convincing on my part to make Hobbiton believe that they were not imposters.”

“Really? Who were they?” Fili’s eyes were wide and bright in wonder, just as his brother’s were.

Billa smirked at the two and answered. “Belladonna and Bungo Baggins. My parents.”

Balin looked at the lass in shock. “You mean to tell us that you were not born in the Shire?”

The strange hobbit turned to the white bearded dwarf, amusement and curiosity written across her face. “That is correct. I did not expect a dwarf to understand the severity of that, but by the tone of your voice, you have an inkling.”

Balin nodded. “Aye. I have met few hobbits, but from what I have read, no Shireling has been born out of Hobbiton since they migrated to the land they reside in now.”

Billa gave the old dwarf a tilt of her head in respect of his knowledge. By now the rest of the company was listening to the interesting conversation. 

“And you would be right. Until I had come along, no hobbit babe had been conceived, nor brought into this world out of the safe confines of Hobbiton. It was -still is, honestly- quite the scandal. Many hobbits did not know what to do about it, and even wished to exile me to live elsewhere.”

“So, what did you do? What did your parents do?” Kili’s question was laced with awe, much to Balin’s amusement.

Gandalf answered this time. “Oh, Bungo raised hell about it! Spoke of how disappointed he was in his fellows that they wished to shove a child out into a world that even she did not know much about, especially a girl! The Baggins clan stood behind him, as it is well known that Baggins are protective of their own. It’s even in their house motto.”

Thorin looked up in interest this time. “Your family has a motto?”

Billa nodded and raised an eyebrow. “Of course we do; both sides of my family. The Baggins clan claims ‘Family, duty, and propriety’, while my mother’s family, the Tooks, say ‘Unbowed, unbent, unbroken’. It is supposed to be what each family member represents and expects from others.”

Fili hummed thoughtfully before speaking in the same manner, “I thought dwarves were the only ones that had house words. The line of Durin live by-“ The lad looked at Thorin for a moment in silent questioning, and when his uncle nodded he continued. “‘Loyalty, honor, and a willing heart’.”

Billa listens to this and chuckles. “Very dwarven, if you do not mind my saying. Nonetheless, the words are wise and said well.”

The group reached Bree by nightfall, and they were sad to see their last of comfort for a while to come, yet excited for the adventure to come. Balin watched as Billa spoke with their inn keeper, who cooed after her as she batted long eyelashes with suddenly innocent and young eyes, before she walked off to Thorin, handing him a multitude of keys. He seemed to question her roughly and she answered back quite the same way.

Balin did not know how to feel about the lass. Though she was indeed kinder towards the dwarves than any other hobbit would be, there was something slightly…off about her, he supposed. She changed too easily. She controlled her expressions and actions in a way that spoke of more practice in deceiving people than Balin was necessarily comfortable with.

As Balin watched Thorin finally, begrudgingly, concede to whatever she had done or said however, the old advisor thought to himself that she might be exactly what they need in a lucky number, and a burglar.


	3. The Confounding Hobbit

Fili was curious about the new addition to their company.

It had been a week since the group had left the hobbit’s comfortable smial, as she continued to remind the dwarves each time they called it what it really was, _a hole in a hill_ \- but that was besides the point.

Miss Billa was a quiet little thing, when not spoken to. She actually bled into the background, for the most part, as the group road the paths before them. However, every now and then someone, mainly Bofur, would drag her into a conversation, and she would smile a pleasant smile and laugh when it was appropriate.

But the hobbit lass wasn’t pretty when she did this. These actions had a rather hollowness to it. The majority of her actions did for the most part. It was as if there was no emotions put into the polite conversations. There were only a few times Fili had caught a glimpse of the fierceness that could light her eyes into a bright green fire.

The first time, the one that stood out in Fili’s mind the most, was the only day the group stayed in the town of Bree. Thorin had disputed angrily with Gandalf, saying that they needed to leave as soon as possible. However, Gandalf told the snapping dwarf that nearly the whole company was still drunk off their asses from the night before, which honestly they were.

After forcing their majestic leader to take in the pitiful sight of Gloin stumbling around as he mumbled demands of who knows what, along with Kili sleeping at a table with his hand still weakly gripping a pint of ale, Gandalf had successfully made his point.

So, stay they did, in Bree for the day. It was just after midday before everyone was finally mostly recovered from their last bout of fun for a long while, and the whole company had gathered into the dining/bar area to nurse their throbbing heads. At least, all but one of them.

Fili noticed first that their esteemed burglar was no where to be found among them, nor in her room. Balin, however, found a note from her held under a candle in said room. Billa had written that she had gone to gather a thing or two and would be back, at latest, in the evening.

Thorin was, very much, not pleased.

So, when the tiny lass came in carrying various items, the leader of their company promptly exploded on miss Billa.

“Leaving behind nothing but a note?” He screamed to the golden haired hobbitess in a corridor that Fili was thankful held only those that were involved with the quest. “Simply going off on your own, nothing to defend yourself with? What was so important that you needed to leave like a thief in the night, _miss Baggins_?” Thorin said her name in such contempt, that the dwarves who had wives, which were very few, grimaced. They knew the fire a woman could have when spoken down upon.

Looking back, Fili rather thought that they were even surprised at what happened.

Next thing any of the dwarves knew, there were two knives sticking into the wood on either side of Thorin’s head, and Billa was lowering her hand. They stared at her, not even being able to feel shocked because of the suddenness of her actions.

The fierce hobbit took advantage of that as she glowered at the dark haired dwarf that towered over her. Slowly, she walked closer to Fili’s uncle and reached up to the dagger to the left of his ear, a mere breath away from clipping the lobe, just as its twin on the right was identically placed. Billa drew the sharp metal from the wood with a jerk of her wrist, before pulling back for Thorin, and everyone else, to take a better look a the weapon.

Fili himself was rather impressed with the craftsmanship of the little dagger. It was smaller than one he would use, but in the slimmer hands of Billa, it looked to be the perfect size. The handle was bound in a brown leather, and the blade was thin and seemed to be incredibly sharp. The smooth metal was decorated simply yet elegantly with a cascading indent following the straight edges all the way until the tip, and in the middle laid the shape of a flower that seemed to shine in the dim candle light. It was a throwing knife that took a great deal of time to craft.

When Billa spoke for the first time after Thorin had growled at her, it was in a sharp, angry tone. One that caused all three Durin men to cringe, as it reminded them a bit too much of Dis, sister to one, and mother to the younger two.

“If you had given me a moment to show you my wares, I would have explained _‘what was so important that I needed to leave like a thief in the night'_ , Master Oakenshield.” She took the second dagger from the wall and then proceeded to slide both weapons into slits in her trousers that were unseen until she used them, before they seemed to disappear once more as she drew her fingers away once more.

“After Gandalf came to my home with his request to listen to and host all of you, I decided to prepare just in case it later involved going on some adventure. He has almost been named ‘disturber of the peace’ in the Shire many times because he took a hobbit -my mother, to be specific- on one too many trips before she and her boyfriend at the time went off on their own, only to return years later with a wee one in their arms.” Her tenor voice cut across the room like a whip as she spoke, her eyes trained on the hopeful soon-to-be-king who was not doing a very good job keeping his own gaze from burning holes into the little lass.

“So, I asked a messanger boy to take my mother’s daggers to the weapons smith here in Bree to get them sharpened with a proper whet stone, as I no longer have one that is in good shape. I left because I had to retrieve said knives, buy more traveling clothes that will hopefully last through the winter, should we be able to hold onto our heads until then, and settle duties that I have here so that I do not leave people who rely on me dangling in the wind. Master Dwarf.”

Thorin was never one to back down from a fight, nor an argument. So, he of course did the most stupid thing he could possibly do; he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“What duties could you possibly have? Participating in a knitting circle?” Thorin’s voice was low and baritone, as he starred down the woman that defied him.

A wicked spark lit Billa’s eyes as she opened her mouth to reply. Gandalf, however, beat her to it in a hurry.

“Billa Baggins is a member of two extremely prominent clans in Hobbiton. As such, she has finances, jobs, and loose ends to take care of before she could leave Bree.”

Billa nodded in agreement to Gandalf’s statement before expanding on it. “I own the best vineyard you could find within miles that I inherited from my Baggins family. As such, I have workers that I employ, wines that I must oversee the aging of, and merchants to sell to. My Took aunt gave me her duties as the secretary of the Thain, who is also a Took, and so I had to hand off my job to another until I return.” She glared furiously at Thorin. “It is not as important as keeping together a whole people, but it is important nonetheless, as people rely on me. And I refuse to let anyone down if I can help it.”

Thorin just stared at her, an angry gleam still in his eye, but after an elbow to his ribs from Balin, he walked away without another word.

Fili, a knife thrower himself, was thinking about how impressed he was at her skills. For a dagger that were her mother’s, it must have been well cared for if a craftsman could have it in its condition after only a couple of days. Billa also had impeccable aim and speed, considering what the dwarves had seen -or rather, hadn't seen.

Fili pondered on a thought, as the company rode their way to the mountain that would hopefully become their home once more. During that conversation and others like it, Billa Baggins had appeared more _authentic_ and _beautiful_ than she had as she laughed and smiled any other time in the week that the company had known her thus far. Her emerald eyes held a power and will behind them that few possessed, and her body exuded an mithril spine and stubbornness that almost no one could challenge.

Fili was not the only one to notice this, much to Thorin Oakenshield’s chagrin as he argued with the confounding hobbit yet again about how he did not take a wrong turn-.

Oh wait, he did.

Damn.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Hi? Comment and tell me what grammatical errors y'all find in this, if ya don't mind?

Bofur was very skilled in the art of friend making. He prided himself on his easy going smile and ability to set people to ease with his humor and wit.

So, imagine his surprise when he met miss Bill Baggins.

Oh, don’t get him wrong. She laughed and smiled and responded in kind at the right moments. But you didn’t get as far as Bofur did in the art of friendship without noticing little things in people’s expressions.

Bofur noticed the same things that Fili did in Billa’s face at these times, and then some. Her eyes were not just dimmed, they were dead. Utterly emotionless. If one cut out the rest of her face with parchment both above and below her emerald eyes, the person would be convinced that they would be gazing at a cadaver. Yet, they were not lifeless all the time. Bofur realized on the night of the troll encounter, that Billa’s eyes lit up with the fire of hundreds of green suns in the face of two things- as far as he knew, at that point.

Arguing and planning.

As the sun had begun its descent towards the grassy ground, Thorin stopped the company in a clearing, where only a burnt down farmhouse stood, surrounded widely by forestry.  
“We shall stop here for the evening. I doubt that we will find anywhere better before dark reaches us.”

Bofur, like the rest of the dwarves around him, climbed down from their ponies, content with their leader’s decision. After all, light was fading, and even with their exceptional night vision, it would be unwise to continue forward.

Yet, the wizard and hobbit both stayed astride their steads. The wizard gazed at the burnt house in wary forboding, while the hobbit eyed the surrounding forest with suspicion fit for a dwarf.

The wizard spoke of his hesitations on the chosen sight first.

“Thorin, I would suggest we continue forth. Surly we will find a more suitable place to rest our heads soon enough.”

Thorin twisted around to look at Gandalf, his mouth tight with vexation. “This sight is fine. The farmhouse looks to have been set alight a time ago.”

Gandalf scowled at the would-be king. “And if the creatures that put it on fire still reside here?”

“As I said, it looks to have been set on fire a long time back. We are fine, wizard.” Thorin looked every bit of king in Bofur’s eyes as he glared down the tall, aged wizard.

Gandalf threw his hands into the air in furious resignation, before tramping off into the forest, exclaiming that he is going to stay in the company of the only one who sees sense; himself. Even Bofur had to admit that it was rather dramatic. But what did he expect from a wizard?

Billa seemed to suddenly appear before Thorin, still looking around the forested area with a sharp, weary gaze.

“I agree with Gandalf,” she said quietly so that only those close enough could hear. “Not because of the house, though. There is something…something wrong here.” Her voice is lilted with concentration and unease, something that none have heard from her as of yet.

Thorin took nothing of her concern, simply scowling harder as his sights landed on her. “And how can you tell that something is amiss, miss Baggins?” His voice is as it always is when directed at Billa- condescending and doubtful.

The lass’ eyes flicker to the tall dwarf for a moment, wrought with distain, before going back to skittering around their campsite. She takes no notice of the dwarves that begin unpacking the supplies that would be used for that night, nor of Gloin as he begins making the fire. Instead, Bofur watches curiously and with a bit of worry as her eyes flitter at the edges of the tree lines and at dark shadows cast by the setting sun. Eyes that are usually dead sudden came alive.

Bofur later realizes that that should have been warning enough that something bad would happen.

“Hobbits have a…plant sense, I suppose you could say. I’ve heard that dwarves have a similar affinity with the earth. Stone sense you call it, I believe?” The lass shook her head and continued on explaining without waiting for a response. “It makes us able to feel if something is disturbing the plant life around us. Most use it to make sure no rabbits feast on their beloved gardens, but we can also sense if something is harming or distressing a large amount of vegetation in general. Something is wrong here, master Oakenshield.” Her tenor voice is low in her insistence that Thorin listen to her words.

This made Bofur pause in his unpacking as the others went on. He was a talented miner, largely because he had a strong stone sense. He was able to tell if the stone around him had gems or jewels buried deep inside, or simply coal. He could feel the beat of the stone’s cold heart as it thrummed strongly while he worked. If the lass’ forest sense was as strong as his stone sense, then he felt he should be worried.

Thorin, however, did not seem to share that opinion.

“We will camp here, halfling, as I told the wizard. I will not change my mind, simply because a little hobbit is uncertain of my choice.” Thorin’s lips curled in distain as he spoke, leaving Bofur feeling a bit cold in the anger freely shown in his expression.

Billa’s eyes flickered back to Thorin, and instead of darkening with her fury, they brighten to the point that Bofur almost thinks that they look unnatural. When she speaks. it is in a hiss of words. “I am half of nothing, master dwarf. I would appreciate it if you kept that in mind.” Her glare intensified, before turning back to the trees around the clearing, as if she was daring some unknown creature to try and threaten her. “Fine, do as you wish. But if something comes upon us, keep in mind that I warned you, and that whatever happens is on your hands.” Without another glance towards the dark haired dwarf, the hobbit goes to her horse, jerkingly untying her pack and dropping it to the ground, fuming silently as she kept eyes on the forest.

Bofur did his best to bring the lass’ spirits up as the company settled down, Bombur fixing their supper. He told jokes and stories, having all but Billa and Thorin in stitches from laughter. Thorin simply stayed at the edge of the conversation as he had a tendency to do, so Bofur was not surprised by this. However, Billa continued to worry him.

The hobbit lass stayed tense the entire time, her gaze skittering all around subtly. To most it would seem as though she was merely glancing at the different members of their company every now and then. However, as said before, Bofur was not a master friend maker for nothing. She was not looking at the dwarves around her, but instead towards trees that rustled warnings, and fallen branches that crunched with forlorn.

Yet, despite her tension, Bofur could not ignore that Billa wad not corpse-like in this state. She was alive and alert. Her pale face that is typically without wrinkles crinkle at the edges of her mouth and eyes, giving her expression the character it was missing before. In her tension, Bofur could see the cogs turning in her mind. She was thinking, planning, and that both worried and interested him.

When Bombur asked Billa to take Filli and Killi their supper, the lass jumped up and was gone with their bowls in moments, Bofur watching as she disappeared into the trees, before going back to his dirty song about a large chested inn wench.

Minutes later, the company here loud rustling through the forest, becoming louder by the second. By the time the Durin boys break into the clearing, the dwarves all have their weapons at the ready. The two attempted to catch their breath as Thorin strode briskly towards them.

“What are you two doing, running in the forest like that? Anyone could have heard you a mile away and given away our location!”

Filli replied breathlessly, yet with an urgency that drew the attention of all the dwarves. “Ponies taken. Trolls. Billa rescuing.”

Thorin’s eyes widened at the choppy words, before telling the boys sharply, “Lead us. Now!”

Then suddenly the company was following the two young Durins into the forest, and Bofur could not help but first realize that Billa was right about something dangerous being in the forest, and then worry for the wee lass, who was alone against any number of trolls.

As the company slowed finally they heard the slurred voices of three trolls, two complaining about food and one complaining about their complaining. When close enough, the dwarves were able to see that Billa had managed to sneak past the large dolts and was finishing getting the ponies safely into the forest, a large troll-knife in her hand, next to a thick, cut rope.

Perhaps if the dwarves hadn’t breathed a collected sigh of relief, the situation wouldn't have gone belly up.

But they did, and the trolls spotted Billa.

One pulled the wee lass from the ground, shaking her as he held her in a fist while hollering about her stealing away their good meal. Bill had a new kind of spark in her eyes that Bofur had yet to see. It was sharp as she took in the new predicament that she was in.

Killi broke out from their hiding place, sword held before as he tells the troll curtly, “Put our hobbit down!”

Chaos then promptly broke out in the troll clearing. Bofur saw a flash of metal in Billa’s hands before she was thrown into the thick trunk of a tree, her head hitting with a loud thunk that sickened the dwarf. The trolls all growled at the dwarves as the cook picked up Billa again, telling them to drop their weapons or they would her the unconscious hobbit. In disgruntled anger, they did as told, and were quickly tired up either above the fire, or in burlap bags in front of the trolls. the fight only lasted a few minutes, and Bofur believed that their chances of release were grimly low.

However, the trolls began to feel sick. One was throwing up, while another was clutching his swelling throat. The cooking troll’s voice became even more slurred as he swayed on his feet, before finally falling to the ground in a dead-like heap. His breathing sped up to an alarming quickness, before abruptly catching in his throat, and stilling.

The dwarves watched, absolutely baffled, as one by one the trolls collapse in a lifeless pile. The one that was throwing up coughs up blood before his death, and the last appeared to be unable to find his breath in his swollen closed throat. Soon the company was left in silence, utterly confounded on how this came to be.

Then, Billa stirred to wakefulness.

Bofur looked to see her glance around, glazed eyes taking in the situation. It took her a little longer than it should have to process what had happened, before she nods her head.

“I must have been out for quite a few minutes for them to already be dead.” She states with a wince, reaching up with her tied hands to touch her head, which Bofur then realizes is bleeding sluggishly.

Thorin looks sharply at the hobbit and speaks lowly. “You did this killing, miss Baggins?”

Billa looks at her fingers that come back from her head with blood, and sighs. “Indeed I did. A few poisoned pins tend to cause such an outcome.”

The dwarves rear back at the word ‘poison’- well, all but Nori, who seems to be considering the hobbit lass with new eyes now. Dwarves do not poison their foes. The fight fairly, with large weapons and shields. It tends to be seen as quite disgraceful to kill in such a backhanded way, though Bofur is grateful for not being cooked and eaten.

Thorin, however, does not seem to see it the same way.

“You…you use poison to kill your opponents? Do you have no sense of honor, woman?” He sounds disgusted and furious as he glares at the hobbit in front of him.

The lass sighs and turns her glazed gaze into as much of a glare as she is able, looking at Thorin. “Yes, if it is the best solution. I would not have needed to, had you all not come trampling so loud I’m pretty sure those in Bree could hear you. “She does her best to snap, but her voice is worryingly slow, as though she has to concentrate on what she wishes to say.

Thorin does not notice this, as Bofur is starting to see is normal when it comes to the emotions of the lass. “What would you have rather us do? Stay back and allow your idiot self to get eaten?”

“I was nearly done getting the last pony out of the damn pen without those trolls noticing! I would have succeeded, but then you had to-!”

“Miss Baggins, I believe now is not the best time for you to scold the dwarves of our company.” Suddenly Gandalf is standing on top of a rock, looking down at them all. “Perhaps after we get back to camp, yes?”

Billa does not even bother to sigh, just nods with another wince. “Yes, yes, fine.”

Once the company returns to their camp Oin checks all of the dwarves. Gandalf even undergoes the healer’s scowl and afterwards the dwarf pauses before looking around. Billa had faded into the background of their minds, just as she did when she was their hostess during their feast in her home. Bofur looked in the clearing until spotting the poor lass sitting on a log, her head in one hand while the other gingerly brushes against the area in her hair that is bloodied. The dwarves seem to collectively remember her being thrown into the tree, and quickly Oin goes to her.

“Your head, lass. How much does it hurt?”

Billa blinks up at Oin with her slightly less glazed eyes, again needing to take a moment to realize what he said. “Not as much as before. But I believe I am suffering from a small concussion. I feel a tad sick to my stomach” The poor wee thing grimaces as she grows a little pale with nausea.

Oin nods in agreement as he gently washes the blood out of her hair and pokes around the wound. Killi hesitantly goes to sit in front of her. “But, surely that little toss wouldn't hurt your head, miss Baggins?”

Billa looks up at him tiredly before replying. “You dwarves have thicker skulls than hobbits. What is a bump on the noggin for you is a rather bad headache for me.”

Oin puts a patch on the hobbit’s wound before nodding to himself. “You seem to be showing the signs of a concussion, so I am afraid that there is no sleeping for you tonight.” Billa merely sighs at this and nods, stating that in that case she will partner with all the others who will take watch for the night.

The dwarves settle around the campfire and Filli asks their hobbit how is got all but one pony out of harm’s way so quickly.

Billa shrugs before replying, “It was really quite simply. I took the knife from one of the trolls, who was sitting and kept it at his…belt. All I had to do was stay silent and keep the horses calm. I decided that if the trolls noticed me, which was highly unlikely until all of you came along,” she said as pointedly as she could manage with a concussion. “Then I would use my throwing knives against them, since it would work faster than my poisoned pins.” All the dwarves except Nori winced at the word as she continued on. “However, I only had a split second to do something before a fight took place once all of you arrived. I threw a pin at all three trolls, each covered in a different poison, before I was thrown and that damned tree.” Even as she grumbled about her fly in the air, Billa’s gaze, glazed as it was, held that same brightness that it gained when she argued with Thorin.

As everything settles down once again into a calm atmosphere, Bofur glances to Billa as she sits at the edge of their camp. He is sad to see that her eyes no longer hold that spark that had been there for the whole evening. They aren't even glazed anymore.

They're lifeless again. And Bofur hopes that during their journey, maybe the rest of the company can change that.


End file.
